


catapult around the sun

by halfwheeze



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Wings, Doombots, F/F, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwheeze/pseuds/halfwheeze
Summary: Clint Barton has been binding his wings for his entire life. Maybe he shouldn't have done that.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Loki/Victor von Doom, Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159
Collections: Winterhawk Wonderland





	catapult around the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trashcanakin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashcanakin/gifts).



> Z, I hope you enjoy this!

Clint doesn’t even remember how old he was when he started binding his wings. He remembers them developing when he was maybe nine; he and Barney had just left their parents house, the crash had just happened, and Clint was terrified of being kicked out of the circus for being an even bigger freak than the freaks. They weren’t hard to bind at first - he was a scrawny kid, and they only had to be big enough to carry a scrawny kid, and they were still growing anyway. He didn’t even tell Barney at the time, terrified of what his older brother would think, and worse, what he would do. Barney was always more like Dad in doing versus saying and thinking anyway. 

It’s not like the whole team even knows now. 

Of course, Nat knows. Nat has had her wings clipped since she was seven or so, because of course she got hers before Clint got his, but she has tattoos to make up for it. It’s weird how the universe compensates for human error. She has blood red wings tattooed from her shoulder blades down her ass, the tips ending at the tops of her thighs. They’re pretty, an almost uniform color, but the Red Room doesn’t allow for soulmates. Even the tattoos have scars over them, little evidence of the attempts at eradication that just didn’t stick. 

None of them stopped Wanda from wrapping her wings around Natasha as soon as she realised what they were to each other. 

Clint’s never met another person that was clipped, but he’s met plenty that don’t have any wings at all. Captain America doesn’t have wings. The Falcon does. Bruce Banner doesn’t, but Hulk does. They’re a green color that Clint imagines is awkward to have on a regular human body, but that’s not his business. He doesn’t really know how the Banner/Hulk thing works anyway, but apparently Hulk saved Banner for soulmateship? Anyway, Iron Man and his wife don’t have wings, but their little girl does. Clint’s never met her, but he’s seen the pictures. And, hell, how does Clint know Tony and Pepper don’t have wings? To the media, Hawkeye doesn’t have wings either. 

How does he even know that he’s never met someone besides Natasha who is clipped? 

Thor and Loki both have wings, but Clint doesn’t even begin to want to know who the fuck is saddled with a Norse god. That’s so totally not his wheelhouse. 

Jan doesn’t have wings, which Clint loves for her. If she did, they’d match Hank’s (who also doesn’t have any), who Clint has never thought was good enough for one of his closest friends, let alone Jan, the undisputed best of them. 

Not a single fucking thing he’s just thought about for the past ten minutes has been the point. The point is that Captain America’s best friend is joining the team and he also doesn’t have wings, which is sad, because he’s hot. 

He’s also apparently a werewolf, which is kinda crazy weird, but also the kind of interesting that Clint wants to spend hours picking apart because he’s always liked people more than facts and figures anyway. Clint has never met a werewolf, sue him - he’s met  _ plenty  _ of vampires, more vampires than any person should ever have to meet in their life, really, but he’s never met a bunch of other things that apparently exist on this corporeal planet. Except that he’s met Norse gods. 

Jesus on a cracker, being a superhero is fucking weird. 

For example, right now, he’s fighting doombots for some reason, even though everyone knows that Doom is overseas with his soulmate wreaking havoc on greater Europe. Supervillians should not have soulmates that are other supervillains, but Doom and Loki go gallivanting every few months just to prove that they can. The doombots in NYC are probably just to keep half the team occupied while the other half tries to keep up with the actual villains instead of ‘just’ defending the citizens of their city. The Fantastic Four is helping out, for once, so it’s not as bad as it could be. Natasha and Wanda are here to keep Clint company as well as Barnes and Rhodes, but the rest are in Europe. Even Jan and Hank are overseas for some science aspect Clint doesn’t really understand. 

How much does it fucking suck for Rhodes to just… be on Earth when his soulmate is in outer space? That’s gotta fucking suck, right? 

Anyway! Doombots!

He’s getting cornered on one of his favorite roofs, which sucks because he’s out of arrows (besides ones that will  _ definitely  _ hurt someone else on scene, which would suck major dick). He swings from the edge of the roof onto some poor sap’s balcony, sliding the railing onto the fire escape as easily as he can. Which is great, except that a doombot immediately stops attacking him and goes for the fire escape attachment which, despite popular belief, is much less sturdy than good old Hawkeye. 

_ Futz.  _

The fire escape buckles beneath him and Clint does what he can, knowing that Wanda and Rhodey are both far too far for him to be expecting any saving. He releases his wings, pulling at the designed flaps that Tony gave him when he found out that Clint had wings at all. That was the first time that Clint knew that he could trust Tony, soon followed by Tony replacing his old BTEs with something better. He releases his wings and falls into a freefall, letting the most avian pieces of him give him something that is less than a landing but more than falling, an easy descent. He’s not good at flying like Wanda, or even very good at having wings in general, but this is his first time having them out in public for over twenty years, in his defense. He glides downward, taking out what doombots he can on his way down. 

It’s good to know that Doom had no idea that he had wings either. It’s pretty fun to be able to pull one on supervillains. It’s just also a pretty big surprise that Loki didn’t tell his soulmate. Kinda makes Clint’s stomach roll actually. 

Anyway. 

Clint hits the ground and keeps fighting, converting his bow into a staff to be used as a blunt weapon. He discharges some of the explosives that he has, careful to pick only the ones that are safe for public consumption. It’s only when he’s cleared a circle around himself that something dark comes bounding toward him, black fur a blur before his ass hits the pavement, his entire field of vision blocked by whatever is on him. Instead of attacking, it’s licking his face, covering him all over as if to keep him out of danger. When Clint pulls back to properly look at the beast, he has to hold it so that it won’t run away completely. It takes the metal forepaw and purple ears for Clint to realise what’s going on. 

“Bucky? Are you my soulmate?” he asks, fingers tracing the lilac shell of one big puppy ear with his fingertips. Bucky whines at him, but a big, puppy smile is looking at Clint anyway, like Bucky just can’t quite help himself. Clint pulls the werewolf closer to his chest, his wings wrapping around them until they’re covered in shadows. He sits with a werewolf between his knees for what feels like both two minutes and five hours, unable to let go of his soulmate for a second. He can barely hear the chaos around them, can only feel the way he wants to keep Bucky with him forever. 

“Hey Hawkeye! Party’s over,” Natasha announces from somewhere behind Clint, but he refuses to stir. He just got Bucky, and moving was never an option. 

He and Bucky are friends. They throw things with each other and sometimes at each other, the first on the ranged weapons range and the second mostly popcorn and candy on one of Tony’s expensive couches. Clint’s never seen him in his wolf form, but they’ve talked about it some, talked about how the transformation can hurt, talked about how it came to be at all. Ever since Clint opened up about his experiences with mind control and other types of family friendly fun, Bucky has talked to him more and more. 

Clint has never even considered this, but now that it’s here… he can barely believe it. 

Even with the wings, he kinda thought he’d never get a soulmate. Seems a little too good for a circus kid with a bad attitude and worse luck. 

When the weight in his lap changed from distinctly canine to distinctly  _ not,  _ Clint has to move, however. Bucky Barnes is looking at him from between Clint’s knees, his smile a kind of distracting that has Clint nearly facepalming, completely done with how oblivious he’s always been about his own feelings. Of course he’s into Bucky. The sky is blue, most grass is green, Tony’s daughter is adorable, Clint likes Bucky. When Bucky reaches for him, hand a little unsteady despite his canine confidence, Clint can’t help himself from reaching back, hand catching Bucky’s as he cups Clint’s jaw. 

“Funny how things work out, huh?” Bucky laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges with the crow’s feet that Clint has always found charming. Clint dips his head down, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. 

“Funny,” he replies, but he thinks that they both know what he means. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment!


End file.
